


An Educational Experience

by HardingHightown



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: But kind of not, F/M, Slow Burn, crack ship, smut in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 05:10:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4250574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HardingHightown/pseuds/HardingHightown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merrill comes to Skyhold, apparently seeking out Hawke, but Iron Bull thinks she is after something very different. He decides to stay close, try and get under the skin of this new member of the inner circle... and is surprised by what he finds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Educational Experience

“Put your eye back in your skull, Tiny. She’s not for you.”

That had been Varric’s response when he’d seen her.

If anything, that had stoked his fires even more.

Merrill had come over from her work with clans to the North, hoping to catch Hawke before she went to Weisshaupt. Granted she was a few months late, but it didn’t seem to bother her, nor Inquisitor Lavellan who welcomed her with open arms. Figures, Bull thought to himself, that Firsts from different clans would know of each other, if only by name. She would stay out the month it was decided, as an official Arcane Advisor to the Inquisition. With Morrigan gone, and Dagna’s work becoming more vital, it seemed to be a neat fit. It was a solution to a problem that had started to plague the Inquisition- with Leliana, Morrigan leaving, positions of authority in the Inquisition were left wide open. The absence of Vivienne, Solas, and Dorian as they returned to their own lives left a gap in magical company for the Inquisitor. They may have won the battle against Corypheus, but the battle now would be to keep the Inquisition strong in the coming years. This was a good alliance, a way to show Briala that the Inquisition was committed to their treaty, and that the Inquisition was not solely a venture of Orlais and Ferelden. 

All these things in such a neat little package.

He kept his eye on her as she was introduced to the rest of the advisors, her new colleagues, starting with a very nervous Cullen. She went for a familiar hug. Cullen went for her hand, and promptly poked at her breast. Both of them blushed scarlet, pulling apart as if they’d touched a flame. It was _adorable_.

“Down, Tiny.”

“I don’t know what you mean, Varric.”

“I know that look, but Daisy… she’s not for you.”

“You seem very sure about that.”

“I am. She’s…”

As Varric struggled to find the words, Bull looked on as Merrill moved on to Josephine, whose warmth seemed to put her back at ease. He noted the shift in her body language; when she could hold eye contact, when she could be sure of where she stood with the other person, the nervous placement of her arms and shifting on the balls of her feet ceased. Her face opened up, her eyes focused on the other person.

“When she first came to Kirkwall, I had three separate Carta strands in my pocket to protect her. I paid off dozens of little incidents of her picking up items that didn’t belong to her, wandering into people’s private property… It’s that she’s just… naïve, that’s all. Idealistic.”

 “Oh, I get your deal.”

Varric’s eyes narrowed. “My deal?”

“Yeah. You think that just because somebody’s out of their element, that they’re unable to look after themselves. That they’re somehow stupid for not being able to engage in your world. You think you’d have coped in an aravel with no running water? In a forest?”

“That’s beside the point-“

“Not from where I’m standing.”

“I’ve known her for ten years, Bull. I think I know what I’m talking about.”

“Yeah Varric,” he replied, stalking away towards the tavern. “I’m sure you think you do.”

 

He didn’t get to meet her himself until much later, when formalities had faded away. She’d entered the tavern with Varric, and he’d kept her to himself for as long as possible, but there was a curiosity in her, he’d noticed. She didn’t just drink from the tankards, she ran her fingers over the metalwork, learning the patterns of the craftsmanship. She kept her feet bare, as many elves did, but her feet connected with surfaces around her, feeling the hay on the floor and the wood of the barstool and the masonry of the walls. She used her feet to feel out her environment whilst her hands engaged with other things. She was taking in as much as she could. Not something he’d often noticed in others.

Her eyes darted about the room, taking in the faces around her, meeting his gaze more than once. Her eyes fluttered down when they met his, but not in embarrassment, like he’d thought they might have done, but more to check that when she looked up again he was still looking.

He didn’t want to disappoint the lady.

He didn’t get a personal introduction until the very end of the night, after Varric had introduced her to the whole tavern, it had seemed. She spent a good amount of time with Dalish, of course, discussing her “bow” and her past in her own clan, but her eyes kept drifting to him again. Then, when Varric seemed to be well and truly distracted, drunkenly spinning a tale to an enraptured audience, she finally came over to him, unsteady on those feet, almost dancing towards the table.

“May I join you?”

Her voice is almost too quiet to be heard, and he doesn’t want raise his voice higher than her level, so he indicates for her to sit by him on the empty stool. She takes it, sliding it further away and sitting right on the edge, her legs crossed tightly together, her hands gripped at the edge of the seat.

“The Iron Bull, is it?” she starts suddenly, the quiet in her voice disappearing into a raucous, warm blast of sound. “Is that right? Not just Iron Bull. Is the “ _The_ ” important? I wouldn’t want to miss it if it was.”

“Yeah, actually.” He replies, leaning forward to be closer to her eye line. “I like the article.”

“It’s nice. To be the “The” of something.” She butted in, breaking up his usual explanation. “Makes you sound very important. Like The Arishok.”

He smiled at her. “I’m not quite like The Arishok.”

“No. You’re even bigger.”

Her eyes drifted down to the expanse of his chest for a little too long before she realised she was staring. She grabbed her flagon of ale to distract herself, and Bull noticed her delicate thumb running over the handle at some speed.

“Of course, I could be talking about the old Arishok or the new Arishok, or any of the other Arishok’s too I suppose, but I only know the big horny- I mean, the one with all the- and the other one, without the horns. Those are the two I know. I’m not really very well read on Qunari. If there’s even records. I don’t know, I’ve never looked Are there? But I meant the old one, anyway. Not that new one. Who travelled with Mahariel, is that right? The hero of Ferelden, I mean. To me, he’ll always be Mahariel. I can’t imagine him having the patience to be friends with a Qunari. No offense. I mean… He was always very quick to temper, always very passionate, not like… Oh dear, I’ve put my foot in it now. I’m sure you’re very nice. You seem quite nice, Serah The Iron Bull-“

He roared with laughter, causing Merrill to jump out of her skin before nervously laughing back. He drew away slightly, trying to put her at ease again. He doesn’t want to scare her off, after all.

“No need for Serah, Merrill. _The_ is fine.”

“Very well, The Iron Bull.”

When she says it this time, he swears her voice drops a pitch. She sits heavily on each syllable, rolling it around in that lovely lilting tone of hers, and all he can think of is the shape of his name on her tongue. She’s looking up at him through thick dark lashes with those eyes, greener than anything he’s ever seen before, heavy lidded and fixed strongly on him. He feels dizzy from them, unfocused. If he didn’t know better, he’d think it was her magic, some sort of enchantment on him, mind control perhaps, but he is certain that whatever she is really here for, it’s not him.

He had his suspicions from the moment she came in to the Great Hall. From the moment she spoke, stated her intention to seek out Hawke, he knew she was lying. Hawke had left months before, and that news would have travelled to her somehow, from Varric, or from Isabela. She was here for something. Solas maybe? If so, she was out of luck, but it seemed… less obvious. Still elusive. He’d keep an eye on her, seeing as nobody else seemed to see it.

And if that meant he could get to spend more time around her, well, right now that didn’t feel like such a bad notion.

“Did I say something wrong?”

The smile had disappeared from the corner of her lips, and he noticed her ears were slightly down. Fear.

“No. Not at all. Nothing wrong at all.”

_Yet._


End file.
